My motherland is so picturesque in a grand sweep
The view in autumn is especially splendid and sweet
Water merge with sky as one leaving no stack in space
The sun’s cooling rays match the evening hue with grace
Where on the islets tall reeds thrive like hay
Bamboo fences keep my thatched cabin under shade

Under distant clouds a white sail stands tall
Beyond the mist tavern flags hang low to call
What of events recording the Six Dynasties their rise and fall
Fishermen and loggers weave stories to tell them all
I watch in melancholy the multi-story tower reflecting our glorious past
Saying not a word the sun sets westward fast